


Drunken Brawl

by biotic_raptorian_angel



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 14:55:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14499456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biotic_raptorian_angel/pseuds/biotic_raptorian_angel





	1. Chapter 1

The hot shower left steam wisping through the bathroom as Angela wiped it from the mirror and began putting on her sleep shorts and a tank top. Ruffling her golden hair with a towel to dry it as much as possible, she stepped from the bathroom and into her kitchen for a glass of wine before settling in for the night. The knock on her flat door startled her enough that she nearly choked on the red liquid in her glass, clearing her throat she slowly and cautiously stepped towards her door. 

Peeking up into the peephole of her door, she saw a tall slender figure leaning against the door but couldn't make out just who was there. “Whoever you are, leave before I call security.” Every muscle tensed in anticipation of needing to flee from the door to her cell phone, but her entire body froze when she heard the raspy voice. “Angie....it's Me...I've seemed to have gotten myself into a bit of a tussle...” Her distinct accent drawled out her words with a heavy slur, that of someone who had been visiting a bar all night. 

Her fierce brow softened with worry as she shot her hands to the lock and opened the door only to have the taller woman basically fall onto her weakly. Angela was able to steady herself and wrap an arm around her waist to half carry Moira to the nearby armchair to set her down, Moira not offering any assistance as they stumbled across the room. 

Angela looked over the other with wide eyes; cuts, bruises and blood marred her pale skin and white jacket. “Mein gott liebe! What happened?” She carefully slid her hands to the inside of Moira's jacket and gently pulled the sleeves down and removed it all together to land on the floor. Her knuckles were scraped and bleeding, very clearly she had punched someone or something multiple times. As the doctor side of her kicked in, Angela assessed every inch of her she could see without taking her shirt off yet, making note of every cut and splotch of blood visible. “This shirt is going to have to go liebling, I need to see how bad things are under there.” Her fingers were already undoing the buttons as Moira just sat there with shallow breaths, and gravelly scoffs. Once she pulled the shirt open, the full extent of the damage was visible and a loud gasp escaped the doctors lips as the fabric was peeled away from heavy gashes and dark bruises. “What happened?!” 

The strong smell of whiskey wafted heavily in the air between them, and Angela already knew the answer to her question. A heavy sigh with a slight raspy cough was mingle with mumblings from the other, “I left him alive...but he'll never call me that again, leathcheann.” Her hetero-chromatic eyes never raised to meet Angela's, shame very obviously filling her posture as she basically slumped over in the chair. Her forehead rested on Angela's shoulder with a soft hum, why had she come here to begin with. 

Their past and current relationship status was barely enough for Moira to have crawled her way over here by choice, most likely the shame of whatever happened outweighed her fear of Angela seeing her like this. 

The doctor pushed her shoulders back, wincing at the stretching of torn skin over one of Moira's ribs that was clearly a result of someone with a knife in this fist fight she had been involved in. “Stay right there like this, don't move please. This wound is the worst, I'll need to grab my kit. Can you stay just like this for just a few moments?” Angela's blue eyes filled with intense worry as Moira's head bobbed then settled back against the chair with a slight nod. 

She nearly bolted to her office across the flat to find her medical supply bag, returning in just a few moments to find Moira mumbling again. Standing before her like this nearly ripped her heart from her chest. The geneticist never showed signs of weakness, of any struggle she would ever have gone through. 

For her to have been getting this sloshed and to pick a fight with someone this badly, something must have bothered her deeply. But that inquiry would have to wait, Moira was bleeding out in her living room and Angela's gentle composure turned to professional. She knelt down, wiggled her hands into latex medical gloves before gathering up a suture kit and threading the needle. Taking a deep breath, she carefully prodded at the deep cut to see how much the muscle was compromised before looking up to Moira's face. “This needs stitches right now, I can't give you any medications to dull the pain, so bear with me and I'll get through this as quickly as possible. Can you tell me where you are right now?” 

Shock hadn't set in just yet, but Angela knew it could take hold of her at any moment if not monitored, all she had to do was keep her talking until things were finished. The first stitch was the roughest, Moira flinched as the needle punctured skin and thread slid through. A growl rumbled in her chest with a sharp inhale, “Go gortaíonn!” There was no sympathy in those blue eyes as she focused on getting every stitch properly placed before reaching into her bag for a small spray bottle of golden liquid. 

The nanites wouldn't heal this wound right away, but as she sprayed it lightly over the wound, muscle fibers began to reconnect and the bleeding would stop at least. The average heal time for a wound this deep would be 12-15 hours, so Moira was going to have to stay here not only for observation but to make sure she sobered up enough to get scolded by Angela for whatever transgression she got herself into. Lightly spraying the solution over all the scrapes and tiny cuts would make them heal instantly to leave no marks behind. 

She peeled off the bloodied and sticky gloves to toss them into the trash bin nearby, then moved to the kitchen to wash her hands thoroughly, habit from hundreds of surgeries. “You did wonderful liebe. Now let's get you to the bed to rest until morning. Can you move?” Her eyes searched the others features for a response and all she got was a slight nod and a whine of pain as her hand reflexed to the wound as she was helped up by Angela. Stumbling slowly to her bedroom, Angela made sure to not have her bend more than need be for movement as the Irishwoman sprawled out on one half of the bed. 

Angela returned to the kitchen to grab two bottles of water and returned to find Moira motionless and passed out. She would definitely be getting an earful tomorrow, but for tonight in her extreme moment of weakness, Angela would keep a watchful eye over her. Crawling into the bed on the other half, she ran her fingers through those fiery locks and leaned down to softly kiss at her forehead. “You really are a schmerz.”


	2. Morning After

Angela didn't manage to get much sleep that night, between her worry for the injury Moira had sustained and the fact that the Irishwoman spent most of the night mumbling and tossing and turning in her sleep. Her pale eyes strained to see the alarm clock over Moira's shoulder and when they focused to read eight in the morning, she thought it was time to turn on the little desk light to check on the others wound. Carefully the twisting mechanism clicked on and the room filled with a dull yellow light, just enough that Angela could look over to see Moira turned on her side looking towards her. The soft look on her face made her heart melt and an endearing smile curled the doctors lips as she took a moment to enjoy the sight of her once lover. But her gaze quickly trailed along her slender exposed torso to find where the large cut had been just the night before, it had healed mostly but a harsh pink line still lingered and the small stitches remained tucked into her pale and otherwise unmarred skin. Instinctively she raised a hand to trail two finger tips gently along the line, the stitches like braille to her touch, she would heal just fine in another 2 hours or so. The geneticist would be hungover and hungry when she woke, so Angela thought it best to get a pot of coffee started and make her a decent breakfast to wake up to. 

They had fallen helplessly in love for three magical years of side by side research, their routines had become so domestic as they took turns staying at each others homes on their time off. But once Moira had fallen into ethical reviews for her side of the Valkyrie research, Angela couldn't stay affiliated for fear of all her research being for nothing. Of losing all her funding and the good that her technologies could provide to the medical fields. They naturally had a conflict of morals and Angela had to end things, which she knew would tear apart the geneticist considering she never let others in. But lately she had been missing the other woman in her life, her morning routines were mundane and lonely as she sat at her desk with her coffee going over the notes from the day before. She missed cuddling up with the taller woman and them reviewing the research together, being able to relax in stressful experiments and bounce ideas off each other. Her heart ached for the other in ways she would never have the courage to admit to her face, but here she was making a pot of coffee for the woman who had stolen her heart so easily. 

Moira wasn't one to get hot headed or quick tempered so whatever the poor man from last night had said to her had to have been just the right button pressed to set her off. Leaving the kitchen to get a sweater considering the chill in her flat, she looked over to Moira still sleeping in bed and decided to let the coffee maker be on its own while she stole a few more moments with the other. Carefully she crawled back into the bed, making sure not to disturb the poor woman as she mumbled something in her native tongue and those fierce brows furrowed before settling to softness once more. The doctor couldn't help but to admire the beautiful form of the woman laid out before her, a redness blooming in her cheeks as she reached out to run her fingertips along her sharp jaw. Her androgynous features never ceased to amaze Angela in their defined beauty, that sharp jaw matched the soft plump lips she loved to kiss. Daring at the possibility of waking her, she leaned over to run her fingers along the cut again and kissed at her cheek gently and whispering softly. “Wie kommt es, dass ich dich immer noch so sehr liebe?“ 

A crooked smile crossed Moira's lips before a soft groan and furrowing of her brows made Angela nearly jump out of her skin. “You tell me gra.” Her features went harsh as her slender hand moved to feel the stitches and another groan rung out into the pillow. Angela grabbed at her hand, “No liebe, leave it be to heal. It's nearly there and I don't want you messing with it considering how bad it was.” A heavy blush burned at her cheeks as she realized Moira's hetero-chromatic eyes were glued to her face and her hand squeezed for attention. The geneticist moved slightly to rest her cheek to Angela's chest and a happy little hum rumbled against her skin. This wasn't the time for Angela's emotions to kick into overdrive, but it was so easy to fall back into things with the other and all she wanted to do was kiss her. 

“I know what you're thinking. 'This overly intelligent grand doctor got into a bar brawl over some insignificant matter'. Well I'll have you know the brute was given fair warning and he crossed the only line I have ever drawn.” Her face hid into Angela's chest in shame, she knew she was about to be scolded and to be honest the doctor had every right to do so. But seeing her last night bleeding out in her flat and the softness she missed from her this morning, she couldn't find it in her to tear into her like she had wanted to. It wouldn't benefit the situation or her condition, so instead of lashing out she ran her fingers in random shapes along the others bare back. “I'm not going to scold you for being a dummkopf . Instead I simply want to know what he said to set you off so easily. You're will is legendary and undeniable, so it must've been good.” The verbal jab was not meant to be hash but to spark the others mind into a bit of an argument for old times sake.

“I was drinking my whiskey, minding my own business and out of nowhere comes this right idiot going off on some narrow minded tangent. Stumbling about like a fool and spurting slurs at me for being a woman dressed in a suit and ignoring his advances. Just because I happen to have female anatomy doesn't give him the right to talk to me however he pleases and I am NOT obligated to fuck just every man who fancies a shot at me.” Moira was shaking with anger at this point against Angela and she felt bad for pushing the subject this far, but felt it was necessary to get it out in the open for a bit of therapy. She knew Moira's androgyny had caused her a multitude of issues over the course of her career and personal life, but she usually played everything off as the intellectually superior of the fights. So what set her off so quickly this time? “And you thought it right to fight the man? You could have died, and you nearly did even with my help.” She felt the other sunk deeper into her chest, a groan of annoyance rumbling there and she could swear she heard an Irish curse but left it be. “I've missed you, Angie. I can't seem to get my research where it needs to be and Oasis is nagging at me worse than my mum for more results. The morons they have working with me are so far behind and so close minded they can't even understand half of my sequences and they fall into line instead of offering alternative thoughts. I miss us in the lab.” The older woman pulled back a bit to look up at Angela with soft sad eyes and she couldn't help but compare her to a sad little puppy which made her heart melt more so than it already was. 

Her hand raised to caress the others cheek and a sigh escaped her, “To be brutally honest, I've missed you too liebe. My days are mundane and boring without your quips, sarcasm and obscure thought process. My lab is in the same situation as yours and I've burned through so many assistants I've lost count.” She shot a glance over to her medical bag where the small empty bottle of nanites rested. “My research is at a stand still at this point and I have no idea where to go next.” She shook her head, this was no time to be thinking about work when Moira was laying in her bed half naked. “Anyway, I've got a pot of coffee on. Do you think you can sit up so I can properly examine the injury?” She felt bad making her move, even worse because all she wanted to do was stay in bed the rest of the day with her, but her nanites weren't perfect and she needed to see their progress. 

Moira complied with only a few soft grumblings of discomfort and annoyance at the very evident hangover she was dealing with. Sitting at the edge of the bed she hunched over until Angela pulled her desk chair closer to examine the area. Her hands were cold against the others warm skin and it made Moira shiver slightly and smirk. “Damned doctors always have freezing hands.” The nanite healing had reached the epidermis now and she watched as the skin fully healed to leave only a slightly pinkish line across her rib and the stitches one by one were pushed free of her skin. “You've healed rather nicely considering how deep the cut was.” She hadn't noticed when Moira's hand moved but it landed on her jaw and pulled her chin up to look into her eyes. Those devilish needy eyes froze her in place as she pulled her in for a passionate kiss and Angela melted into the front of the taller woman, her hands finding her hips settling there. The geneticist pulled away only slightly to whisper the words that Angela couldn't ignore, “Care to examine the rest of me gra?”


End file.
